


Everything That I Cannot Be

by BurningSwan



Series: What We Cannot Have [2]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Depression, Frustration, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Insomnia, Jealousy, Love/Hate, Metaphors, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Regret, Stairs, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 19:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12327327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningSwan/pseuds/BurningSwan
Summary: He cannot change who he is nor can he change how Shizuo feels about him.





	Everything That I Cannot Be

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry, I love angst too much. Hope you enjoy regardless.
> 
> ~BurningSwan

His feet dragged up the stairs, hand clenching the railing as if for dear life. In his other hand, a half empty bottle of liquor swings back and forth in his tight grip. His cheeks sink hollowly into his face, bags hangs under his eyes from lack of sleep, his breaths are shallow. It takes so much energy to suck in just one more breath.

He is tired. Sick of it all. He trips, falls, barely manages to splay out his hands to somewhat catch himself.

He doesn't get up right away, chest heaving. It's getting to be too much. It's become unbearable. The look of pure hatred, the rage crisp in the yell of his name, the violence of various objects lobbed at him with the intent to not just hurt or injure but kill. He doesn't want this. And perhaps he never did.

It's too much. Watching him from a distance with someone else. Looking at someone else. Smiling at someone else. 

It was fine when he had no one, but now Shizu-chan had someone and it wasn't him.

He choked out a strangled laugh, amused at his own misfortune. Self-deprecating. Why had he ever thought he could be more? That he could be the most important person- by being hated? He hadn't wanted to be hated. But he had had no choice in the matter. It was all Shizuo. All him. 

Why had he thought that hate could outweigh love in importance? Why had he thought so highly of his existence is Shizu-chan's life? He was no one to Shizuo, but a hindrance, a nuisance, a flea. A sob wracked his body as he dragged himself up the stairs, too tired to get up, too tired to go on. 

It was all Shizuo's fault.

Damn him.

Damn him.

Damn him and the stupid feelings he felt towards Shizuo. 

Damn him for loving someone else that wasn't him.

Damn him for loving Vorona and not him.

Damn him. Damn the world for making Shizuo hate him.

He couldn't change who he was nor could he change how Shizuo felt about him.

This is how the god falls.

Love; twisted, evil, rotten.

He hated this feeling, hated that he felt this way towards the man who would never, could never feel the same. Would never and could never feel differently about him, would never and could never feel anything but hatred towards the flea who ruined his life.

Izaya raised his gaze upwards when he reached the top of the stairs finally. Saw the light filtering in through the window, lighting up his apartment. The light was scathing and harsh in his eyes that had adjusted to darkness, the darkness he had been surrounded with not only as he had climbed up those stairs but always, always been surrounded by. It was why Shizu-chan hated him. 

He didn't make it up the top of he stairs. He slid back down, each step banging against his chest painfully. He took a swig of the liquor, letting it burn his throat the whole way down. He lands at the bottom of the stairs, drops the glass and it shatters. He falls onto the broken fractures of the glass, doesn't even react to the shards cutting into his pale skin, making blood fleck his body and drip down into puddles around him.

His head hurts. He is not sure whether it was from the fall or from the alcohol. He can't remember how many times he has tried to climb the stairs now. How many times he failed to get to the top. Doesn't care either. Decides he won't try anymore. Will just lie at the bottom of the stairs and drown.

It's dark, as it should be. Izaya's head rests on the broken glass, the cold ground that chills his body. He doesn't move. Doesn't feel like moving. He waits. 

It's quiet, but he thinks it shouldn't be. Shizuo should be yelling his name in a rage, swinging a road sign or throwing a vending machine or something, running after him...But he isn't. And he hasn't been. Like he has lost interest. Like his archenemy is now no one, doesn't matter anymore because he has someone- has Vorona. But it's not him and it drives him mad. Breaks him down, so easily, too easily.

Why is he this pathetic?

Gods do not- should not- fall this easily.

He throws a hand over his eyes, steadies his breathing, sighs. Lets out a shaky sob.

How far he has fallen. He cannot recover any more. He has fallen too far, for too long.

He is no longer needed. 

No longer important to Shizuo.

He can't change who he is, his existence.

Nor can he change how Shizuo perceives- how Shizuo feels about- him.

It has all come crashing down now. His claim to being more than human. He is more human than he wanted to be. Wishes that if he had to be this human, he at least got happiness. Got to be with Shizuo, but his wish could never be granted. He could never get what he wanted.

For too long he had deceived himself, dragged out the lie because he knew it would eventually become too much.

He rolled onto his stomach, reaching for the bottle in his forgetfulness, forgetting that it was broken. Shards cut into his hands, blood oozing out mockingly in beautiful drips of crimson red, thick and dark. 

He hisses, sobs again. Unable to take it anymore. He forces himself to sit up, to stare around blankly at his surroundings in a blurry haze. He fumbles for his knife, digging into his jacket pocket, retracting the switchblade from it.

He admires it blandly. The gleam of that sharp blade. So familiar, yet so foreign. A reminder that he had hurt Shizu-chan as well, but just way more pathetically than he had hurt himself over Shizu-chan. He laughs at himself as tears sting his eyes, blur his gaze. Fingers the edge of the blade. He's in no hurry, doesn't have to be.

No one will stop him and no one will care.

A fallen god is a no one.

This pain will be less than what he has been feeling, what he has suffered through for years. Watching Shizuo get stolen away by someone else. Getting ignored by Shizuo and becoming completely unimportant and irrelevant to the blonde bartender.

A shaky sigh. He wipes his eyes and raises the knife to his chest.

Swift.

Thud.

Silence.

There was nothing at the top of the staircase anyways.


End file.
